New Chapter

Well, with my limited tech savvy, I made some changes to this place. The biggest one, for me anyways, is I changed my blog name. I’m using my first name as the author and I even added a picture which is a big step for me. However, I had to change the blog name since I’m no longer maintaining the ‘running’ part of the ‘introverted runner’ moniker. I thought about changing it to the ‘anti-social hobbler’ but that just doesn’t roll of the tongue, you know? So, in thinking about my life as a whole, I decided to change the title to ‘A Day in the Life of a Late Bloomer.’ I’m still keeping my old posts and the site as a whole since that was an old chapter and this is a new one.

I chose my new title because I feel like I am the prime example of a late bloomer at, almost 35 years old. My awkward phase started when I was about 8 and is still in progress. If we want to get deep on this, I didn’t have the greatest childhood and I feel confident saying that some event significantly stunted my emotional and mental growth. If I had to give an estimate, I would say that I maintained an emotional age of about 13 or 14 years old for about 10 years. I wasn’t living with my parents or trying to sneak out of the house, I was in my 20’s and living on my own and even building a successful military career. However, I was shy like a teenage girl and had terrible self-confidence and self-image issues. I was even self harming in the form of cutting which is something that typically starts in the teens but I started at 20. I was irresponsible with my money and I threw tantrums when I didn’t feel like I was getting enough attention. I was a teenager in something’s skin and that’s not something I was proud of.

Now, I hardly feel like a 35-year-old through and through. If anything I feel like a 22 to 25-year-old which is why it’s hard for me to accept the aging body that goes along with feeling that young. I certainly no longer have the face of a 20 something and it sucks to think that I can count my remain fertile years on two hands or less. All this is compounded by the fact that my ‘peers’ in college are 18 or 19 years old. There’s a 17-year-old in one of my classes! Yes, I know, don’t compare yourselves to others and all that…To be fair, I’ve hardly been lazing around for the last decade. I was enlisted for 12 years and I went around the world, literally. I’ve lived a great life and made great friends. I’m grateful to be me, I just wish I could have had all these experiences and still be 25 years old now. I see all these kids who are certain in their majors and their future. I see qualities and a confidence in them that I still don’t feel like I have. Many of these kids are probably more mature, emotionally and mentally, than I am. I’m just trailing behind them and trying to get on their level. I’ve felt that way my whole life, everyone is always so far ahead of me and I’m way in the back, trailing behind and nursing my side cramp. Hence, the ‘late bloomer’ title.

I’m working on it though. I don’t want to be left behind anymore and I don’t want things that have been normal for me, to be normal anymore. Like constant fear and worry. I worry about something every day and I’m scared of everything including anything involving other people. This goes beyond ‘stranger danger’. I have a borderline panic attack anytime I even think about answering a question in class or saying ‘hello’ to someone. For years I just accepted this as a personality quirk. Now I have a different name for it: fucking anxiety! I see people living without anxiety or at least managing it to a point that it doesn’t hold them back and I’m jealous. Well, I’m tired of being jealous and now, this week, I’m going to my doctor to attack the problem head on. Even this appointment is making me nervous. I’m worried the doc is going to say everything I feel is normal and I just need to deal with it but I can’t deal with it so I eventually drop out of school because I can’t participate and I don’t get a job because I’m too scared of new co-workers so I become hermit who gains 400 pounds and my mom, who is retired, is forced to rejoin the workforce because I can’t and then she resents me which makes me resent her and one of us kills the other in our sleep…see what I live with! That’s just a tip of the iceberg. Time to get this shit taken care of.

 

 

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